


little secrets

by whiskerprince



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Basketball, College AU, Exhibitionism, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sports Talk Warning, TA/Student Relationship, brought to you by a real live TA, handjobs, wow it looks like the additional warning is basketball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskerprince/pseuds/whiskerprince
Summary: "You and I both know that isn't true," Chris says, holding Felix back when he tries to lunge at Chris's mouth. Chris trails his lips over the line of Felix's jaw, freshly shaven, to sigh in his ear. "This isn't just kissing."





	little secrets

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is so fucking good, you're welcome in advance
> 
> if you follow me for tbz content, i will be posting a juhwall version of this some time in the future
> 
> warning: there's non-explicit consent in here following verbal protest. it is 100% consensual and i believe fairly obvious in this regard, but if this squicks you out, skip this fic

 

"Marinara or alfredo?"

Chris turns around on the couch and sits up on his knees to drape his arms over the bar. Across the bar counter and the island in the center of the kitchen, Woojin puzzles over an opened jar of tomato basil and another of three cheese alfredo. Beneath the water-filled pot, the stove creaks as the electric range comes to life. And off to the side on the counter, a box of Publix brand corkscrew pasta. Woojin looks up at Chris with pleading eyes.

"The marinara has been in the fridge since we moved in—"

"Yeah, but it's probably—"

"—three months ago."

Woojin pouts and sets the jar of marinara to the side. "Alfredo, then?"

Chris's lactose intolerant and milk-product-battered stomach gurgles uneasily. Chris weighs up the chance that Woojin will get distracted grading papers and forget he hasn't eaten all the pasta after he makes his first two bowls. It's high.

"Why not make a pasta salad with the olive oil and some parmesan?" Chris suggests. "The peppers are going to go bad if we don't use them soon."

Woojin makes an inquisitive noise. "We still got edamame?"

Chris snorts. "Do we live like animals? Yes, and cherry tomatoes."

"You're the best, man," Woojin says with a grin. "Food runner of the year."

 _Let's see how you feel when I inhale half your pasta supply,_ Chris thinks, with only marginal guilt. The couch cushion beside him dips, and he feels arms wrap around his back and warm exhalation through his shirt where the intruder presses his face against Chris's back. Chris drops an arm off the counter to squeeze his shoulder before returning it. "How'd they take class discussion today?"

Woojin scrunches his face but doesn't scowl. "Russian know-it-all wouldn't shut up and kept dragging us off topic. Got a few of the girls in the back to pipe up, though. Once one of them branches out from their stupor, they all kind of follow suit."

"Better than Dr. Morales?"

Woojin gives him a _look_. " _Anyone_ ," Woojin deadpans, "is better than Dr. Morales."

Chris's body shakes involuntarily with muffled laughter not his own. He pokes the boy behind him with a socked foot, a gentle scolding of _shhh_ which is met with cheek rubbing on his back. Chris smiles a little harder than he usually would when shooting the shit with Woojin.

"Basketball?" Chris suggests.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Woojin says. "Virginia Tech, _eat_ my _ass_."

Chris flips back around with a grin a grabs the remote off the warped coffeetable. In scrambling around, he escapes the hold of his companion, but not for long. Once Chris puts the game on, clicking the volume up a few notches more than he would normally— _so Woojin could hear of course_ —and the band starts to pound out their school's fight song, Felix slides from the adjacent cushion and into Chris's lap, worming his way comfortably onto the tops of Chris's thighs, pulling Chris's arms around his middle.

"Hyung?" Felix says, a tad louder than necessary. "I still don't really understand the relation between sign stimulus and pathways of communication. It's this diagram I don't get. When the moth evades predators, is that different from communicating a mating display?" Felix has nothing with him, nor does he look at Chris when he asks.

"You're close!" Chris says encouragingly, also too loud. "But a sign stimulus has to trigger a testable, consistent response in the other individual. Also, sign stimulus is between two of the same species. So, running away from a predator is not the same as say, a mating display, but..."

Chris leans his head back to peek over the edge of the bar. Woojin is mindlessly popping edamame into a salad bowl, eyes on the basketball warm up. One of the edamame beans pops out of the pod and skips across the island and Woojin curses, only the mistake able to distract him from the game. Felix leans back, his soft blond hair tickling Chris's jaw and collarbone. He kisses the side of Chris's neck, tongue darting out and making the softest, sweetest _pop_ when he leans back. Chris shivers.

He turns back to Felix, eyes wide and bright with mischief. Chris puts a finger to his lips and widens his eyes insistently. _Shh!_ Felix responds by rolling his eyes. He points at the kitchen, mimes making a dunk shot, and then clutches his hands together and to his chest and sighs dramatically (if silently) in what Chris assumes is his best imitation of Woojin being smitten over basketball. Chris attempts to shove down a smile but it breaks across his face anyway. He forces his lips together and rolls his eyes, and once more puts his finger to his lips.

Felix mouths, _then make me_.

Chris's need to feel his boyfriend's tongue in his mouth outweighs his need to not get fired for broaching the sexual misconduct regulations regarding university staff and their students.

 _That's kind of fucked up_ , Chris thinks as he leans in, shifting one arm upwards to Felix's shoulder, to press on Felix's jaw and guide it up to his mouth, not that Felix needed any help. Still, Chris persists as Felix's fingers knot in his long sleeve and pull him harder against Felix's mouth, when it came down to celibacy and protecting his feeble salary versus sex with Felix? Chris would let Felix bend him over the media cart in front of his entire review session and only regret the ensuing sex offender charges a little bit.

Besides, Felix isn't _really_ his boyfriend, he just showed up in Chris's tiny cubicle of any office with questions he already knew the answers to and a mouth that he made sure Chris couldn't look away from...

Felix isn't really his boyfriend, he just showed up for impromptu “homework help” or “test reviews” and Woojin, epitome of apathetic graduate students who hated their PI and just want their defense committee to say _yes_ , didn't bat an eye when Chris brought Felix into his room, locked the door, and held a hand over his mouth while he drove him through the mattress.

But Chris did kind of buy a mattress topper for him. And cleared out a third of his closet and drawers for him. And bought their condoms. And drove Felix to and from school, even on Tuesday-Thursdays, when Chris didn’t have class. But it's mostly the mattress topper that gets to him. Like, damn, that's only one step away from buying a mattress for him, and if you buy a mattress together you might as well get _married_ with the loan you'll have to take out for—

Felix rumbles against Chris's mouth, pawing at his chest. He pulls back, eyes still closed, and Chris's heart squeezes. "Chris," Felix murmurs. "You're distracted."

"Jus' worryin'," Chris says brushing his lips back and forth against Felix's. They're soft and burn faintly with mint chapstick. Chris drags his tongue along the underside of Felix's top lip and he feels rather than hears the hitch in Felix's breath. "See?" Chris says, smiling and brushing noses with him. "Not _that_ distracted."

"It's just kissing," Felix says, hand sliding under Chris's shirt to stroke at his hipbones. Chris's fingers curl around and tug at the hair behind Felix's ear. "No rules being broken."

Except it was written down to the exact letter, in the sexual misconduct section of Chris's TA handbook, that there _were_ rules being broken. _Inappropriate and unprofessional fraternization with students inside or outside the workplace, included but not limited to kissing, sexting, or sexual acts, is strictly prohibited._ Which Chris knew down to the letter, because after Felix had slid off the desk and into his lap to better kiss him and grind against his growing erection, and after Felix had left him breathless and aching, Chris had scrambled for the handbook to see just how deep of a shithole he was in. The answer...well, Chris is sure his family will let him back on the ranch if he's expelled from the university.

"You and I both know that isn't true," Chris says, holding Felix back when he tries to lunge at Chris's mouth. Chris trails his lips over the line of Felix's jaw, freshly shaven, to sigh in his ear. "This isn't just kissing."

"It's not sex," Felix murmurs. Chan feels the pull of muscle in his cheek when he smiles. "Not yet."

Chris laughs, pulling back. Felix is smiling with teeth, his entire face heart-shaped with the force of his happiness. Chris presses a chaste kiss to his lips before he can think about it. "You don't care at all, do you?" he says, laughing a little.

Felix snuggles his back against Chris's chest. "No," he says. "I care."

Chris waits. "But...?"

Felix takes a breath, and Chris regrets letting him get a word out before he can even speak. "But your cock— _mmph_!"

And maybe Felix gets what he wants in the end, because Chris yanks his hair back and swallows Felix's groan before he can make some sound Chris regrets _again_. Felix's mouth is dry from the pear cider he'd snatched from their fridge, but his lips are still warm and plush. Chris chases the taste of Felix into his mouth, his tongue sucked hard against the roof of Felix's mouth, matching the tight fist of Chris's shirt he's got. Felix holds tight to him and he doesn't let go, not until Chris relaxes against him and lets Felix's tongue slide across his, tickling nerve endings in Chris that he will never be able to find on his own. He shudders a little and Felix smiles against his mouth. Chris scolds him with a nip to his bottom lip, then another one, then another, until Felix's lip is puffy and kiss-red.

"Now who's the one who doesn't care?" Felix whispers, dragging his teeth across the tip of Chris's tongue. They open their eyes in sync, holding that dark and molten gaze, dark and molten feeling, between them. Chris is the one to break it, pressing a warm kiss to the corner of Felix's mouth. When he leans back, Felix's hand shoots up to grab his hair, holding Chris's forehead against his, their breath uneven and tangled and hot in the inch of space between their mouths. Chris's tongue darts over his lips and Felix's eyes follow it back into his mouth, his own lips parted and eyes hardening.

There's a small expanse of laundry-less carpet and the excuse of homework in Chris's room. With the way Felix is hanging on him, they won't make it to the bed. He licks his lips once more and takes a—

" _Fuck yeah!_ How does it motherfucking _feel_?"

Woojin's shout surprises an honest-to-god yelp out of Chris and a yip-turned-giggle out of Felix. Woojin slams a hand against the island. "Fucking kick forty-one out of the way, K'hara! Short little fast bitch. Ain't Coney supposed to take care of the dodgy little shrimps...?”

Chris pokes his head over the bar. "Everything okay?"

Woojin gestures wildly at the television screen with a baby carrot. "Did you not see the—" Frustrated, bites the carrot in half. "We can actually win this one if K'hara _moves his beanpole ass!_ " The last statement thrown at the television.

"Your water is boiling over," Chris informs him.

" _Fuck!_ " Woojin howls.

Felix smothers his giggles into his hands and Chris turns back with a grin. He squeezes Felix's middle gently. "Maybe we should actually watch this time?" Felix suggests.

"Eh, why not?" Chris agrees amicably. "At least it's not football."

They watch through to the end of the first quarter, when Woojin voluntarily parts with his pasta salad and Chris gets up to get them a couple scoops in styrofoam bowls. When Chris hands Felix the bowl and plastic fork, Felix makes a face.

"I know," Chris says.

"You _have_ tableware," Felix says, mostly a statement, a little bit of a question.

"Correct," Chris says. "But not clean tableware." Chris stares at the mounting pile of dishes, then shoots a glance at Woojin, who wisely avoids his gaze and shuffles over to the grading station he's set up at the island. This way, he can watch the game _and_ start grading midterm papers _and_ grade short answers to the most recent assignment. In theory. In practice, he eyes the sizable stack of stapled papers moodily and grabs a carton of coffee ice cream and sets about watching the game and occasionally reading the same paragraph of the same assignment over and over again.

Chris can't judge. He's backed up two assignments and the extra-credit papers are starting to trickle in.

He and Felix eat throughout second quarter and alternate between watching and actually discussing the class, but more so who the annoying bitches in class are or if one of Chris's co-workers subtly tries to pick her nose on the job, rather than actual class content. When it becomes clear that their school is getting their asses handed to them, Chris stands up again to toss the bowls and forks.

He bumps Woojin with his hip. "Thought you said we'd win this one?"

"Shuddit," Woojin grumbles. "I am caught up in the wonderful world of Noam Chomsky, or I would be, if half my students could understand why capitalism ain't shit instead of arguing how it's their God—capital 'G'—God-given right to keep all of their greedy blood money."

Chris shrugs one shoulder. "It's the South. Where's an atheist, communist, baby-eating Korean man going to get off telling their righteous asses anything?"

Woojin groans and presses his face into the counter. "Free tuition," he chants. "Free tuition. Free tuition."

Chris snickers as he settles back onto the couch, Felix obediently climbing back into his lap. They're not being as subtle as they could be, but Chris is always careful when they kiss and when they have sex. Woojin would raise an eyebrow at cuddling, but it wasn't like TAs didn't push the boundaries of their contracts on a regular basis. Woojin would only say something if he caught them kissing, or if he saw the hickeys scattered across Felix's hips and thighs. And if he caught them fucking...

Felix snorts when one of the athletes falls dramatically beneath the hoop, exaggerating in the hope of a penalty. Chris smiles. This, however. This was okay. He tucks Felix's head under his chin and Felix warbles warmly at the affectionate gesture.

Chris takes to his usual fidgeting habit of moving his hands. The tops of Felix's thighs are cold even through his sweats, so Chris rubs them soothingly, spreading his palms across Felix's thin legs. His hands are almost wide enough to wrap around the entire tops of Felix's thighs, if he really wanted to. Felix relaxes even more into him.

Woojin picks up conversation during the half-time show, some local schools' girls' dance teams performing to Top 40s and hip-hop. It's cute, but Chris leaves Felix to pay attention in favor of calling advice out to Woojin over his shoulder.

"So you don't take off _anything_ for spelling and grammar?" Woojin asks.

"Nah," Chris says. "But I'm working at the 1000 level, not 2000 level. As long as I kind of know what they're talking about, it's fine. Of course, if they write 'phylogeny' when they meant to write 'physiology,' there's nothing I can do, you know? Those are completely different."

"Hm," Woojin says. "It's a five-point assignment. Half a point?"

"Eh, point-two-five," Chris advises. "Unless it's truly unreadable. Just enough to tell them to take it seriously." He scratches at the seams in Felix's sweats, stubby nails nevertheless sharp enough to paint wavy trails back and forth along the length of Felix's thighs. He hums. "What do you do if their argument isn't logical?"

"Well, if they're spouting off religious nonsense, I can't give them credit for bullshit."

"Fair," Chris says, right handing pausing in its scratching endeavors to drum against Felix. "But if they use it as an example of morality?"

Woojin sighs. "That's fine. I'll even accept if they use their own beliefs. It just has to make _sense_ , right? There's avoiding discrimination and then there's negligence."

Chris laughs, squeezing Felix's thighs. "You should've come to the dark side, mate."

"What? Science?" Woojin makes a disgusted noise. "Sure, let me ruin my eyesight staring through a microscope at things squirming until they squirm the right way. _While_ I'm surrounded by the biggest dicks in academia."

"Hey, the grading's easier."

"I'm sure you get your share of weird answers."

"Well, sure. But just gotta scan them for scientific fact and dock points accordingly."

Woojin shivers. "No thanks. Continue dissecting dead things at your own convenience."

Chris grins even though Woojin can't see him. "Your loss."

The hairs on Felix's arms, which Chris can feel every now and then, are raised to attention, his skin riddled with goosebumps. Chris frowns and rubs a little harder at Felix's legs, trying to encourage some more warmth into them. He squeezes along Felix's thighs from knee up to the point where he knew Felix got ticklish. When he moves his hands to wrap back around Felix's middle, Felix jolts at his touch as if he had been burned.

Chris pokes his head over Felix's shoulder, concerned. Which gives him a clear view straight to the tent in Felix's sweats. Not slightly bothered. Not even half-mast. Fully hard.

And now Felix's body, drawn tight like a piano string and precisely turned away from Chris, makes sense. The ruddy warmth to his cheeks. His uncharacteristic silence and stillness. All attempts to hide from Chris how much his absent-minded manhandling was turning Felix on. More than just a little bit.

Having Felix's hungry body splayed across him and pulled flush to his chest would normally excite Chris. But that, combined with Felix's delicate, desperate attempt at self-control?

Chris's own self-control fails him, and his cock stirs.

Felix's breath shudders out of him. "Don't," he whispers, which only serves to excite Chris further, _god dammit_ —

Chris lets him go and drops to squeeze his thighs reassuringly—an automatic gesture—and Felix's entire body curls inwards. His legs squeeze together and his shoulders jerk upwards and into each other. He lilts to the side and Chris catches him, hands warm on his hips, and Felix makes a tiny, pathetic mewl.

Chris pulls Felix back against him, right against his cock. Felix shouldn't fit so right, but Chris's cock slots right up against the inward dip Felix's ass and he stifles his own groan by biting Felix's shoulder. Felix makes another tiny noise, this one a stuttered gasp, but it's swallowed up by cheering on the television as the teams take to the court once more.

"Oh, goody," Woojin grumbles, reminding the other two of his presence. "Let's see how fast we can get slaughtered."

Chris waits for both their heartbeats to calm down a little before he dares to speak. "Cover your mouth." Not a request. Felix's cups his hands over his mouth and his fingers only shake a little.

"Felix..." Chris murmurs.

"'M sorry," Felix whispers beneath his hand. "I just—"

"You want it." A whisper. But not a question. "That's what this is all about." Felix shakes his head 'no,' cheeks burning. But it's small and frantic. Not the 'no' that means _I don't_.

Hands slide to his thighs. Chris grips Felix where the meat of his thighs meets his hips. He holds tight, and then, he rolls his own hips upward, rocking in the cleft of Felix's ass. It feels so good that Chris actually shudders, which makes Felix shudder, before his hands fall away from his face and he presses his mouth to Chris's ear: "Hyung, _don't_."

"Cover your mouth," Chris orders again.

Felix makes two aborted motions to return his hands to his face. " _Chris_ ," he pleads.

Chris can't resist that particular brand of soft voice. He brushes his lips over the shell of Felix's ear. "Cover your mouth," Chris says, "if you want to come." It's both an ultimatum and a question.

Felix bites his lip. "Woojin-hyung..."

"Is he a problem?"

Felix holds Chris's relaxed gaze with wide eyes. When Chris doesn't falter, the tension starts to ebb from Felix's body and he raises his hands once more to cover his mouth.

"I thought so," Chris murmurs warmly. "You've always wanted an audience."

Felix closes his eyes and goes limp against Chris's chest. But he can only stay relaxed for so long when Chris is kneading his thighs, thumbs rubbing circles close (but not close enough) to his cock, and the rest of his fingers and palms squeezing Felix hard enough to leave imprints. Felix squirms under the attention, which only excites Chris's cock more with every helpless, rough brush of Felix's ass against him.

"Of course you wouldn't say no," Chris whispers. "You've been after this since you crept from my room. Is it really so much more embarrassing if I fuck you out here than in there?"

Felix shakes but doesn't reply.

"I don't mind," Chris whispers. "I do usually, but when you're so desperate, I lose it a little, y'know? So I don't mind if it's out here in the open that I get to be inside you."

Felix makes a noise behind his hands that sounds like ' _Chris_.'

"Woojin's a bit grouchy 'cause he hasn't gotten laid," Chris says. "You think he'd be satisfied watching me press you into the floor?"

Chris doesn't expect Felix's hands to snap away from his mouth to grapple at Chris's own thighs to ground himself and then, very purposefully and not in the sloppy, lazy way Chris had been going at it, grinding himself hard, against Chris.

Chris makes a noise of half-surprise, half-bliss. He only catches Felix's profile when he curls forward to bite Felix's shoulder, but it's triumphant: tongue poking between teeth and a satisfied, full smile.

"Did you really think," Felix pants, "that I thought I was the only desperate one?"

Chris groans against Felix's skin when he grinds down slow, rocking his hips from side to side.

"Mmm, say, hyung," Felix whispers. "When's the last time we fucked, huh? It's been a little over a week, right? I bet you're reaching your limit."

Chris huffs. "What makes you think I haven't gotten off since last Thursday?"

And this time Felix does laugh, convincing enough that Chris can't tell he's trying to pierce a hole in his pants with his cock. "Chris," Felix says, voice dropping back down to a whisper. "It's _you_."

Chris's ears burn hot with the weight of Felix's words. Was he really so transparent? Other than when they were fucking, because he was so full of adoration for Felix that his heart threatened to burst from his chest if he didn't let awkward praises tumble from his lips. Or when they drove and sang to whatever radio Chris's shitty Camry would cough out, because Chris was constantly scolded for glancing at Felix instead of focusing. Or when they hung out casually and Chris hurt his face from grinning just watching Felix _exist_...

"You won't touch yourself if it's not with me," Felix concludes.

And now it's Chris's turn to mumble, helplessly, " _Felix_."

"But," Felix whispers, switching from the slow drag to bouncing in Chris's lap quietly. Deliberately.

"You're not the only one," Felix says, voice pitching to a keen as his bouncing takes on a sloppier, more desperate edge.

"Yo, Chris?" Woojin calls.

Chris doesn't allow Felix even a noise of soft, confused surprise. He stuffs four fingers in Felix's mouth and pulls Felix against him tightly with his other. His cock ends up squished between their bodies, hot and pulsing angrily. Felix's own cock stands to attention, twitching every now and then.

"Yes?" Chris ventures after a beat, voice sounding a tad too small.

"Damn, what, did Felix tickle you into submission again?" Woojin asks. "You better not be laughing about me or something."

"No!" Chris squeaks. And then, calmer, deeper. "No. He was showing me a video." Pauses. "And then he tickled me."

Under his grip, Felix rolls his eyes as if to say _great cover story, idiot_.

"One of my students submitted a paper in this weird format and I can't open it," Woojin says. "You know anything about that?"

"Uh," Chris says intelligently. "Like, if someone submits a document from Pages?" The last few brain cells that haven't migrated to his dick struggle to recall the General Biology syllabus. "I think we just...make them resubmit it?"

"Ugh," Woojin says. "More emails. Is there really no way to make the file compatible with SpeedGrader?"

"Uh," Chris says again, but this time, at least, he thinks he's justified. Because it's not exactly easy to think clearly about work when there's some cute little thing in your lap sucking on and tonguing your fingers.

Felix is careful, silent, and deliberate. He sucks hard on the digits, then flickers his tongue between them roughly again and again, the exact way he had eaten Chris's ass the last time they had sex. A week ago. Longer. Chris's cock throbs again, and Felix smiles around the fingers and tries to suck them deeper.

"Chris?" Woojin prompts.

"Yes!" Chris says. "I mean no! No, there's no way that I know of and I don't know anyone who might know, no, I don't. Know. Anything about file format compatibility." He takes a breath.

"Uh," Woojin says. "Okay, I guess I'll like...text Dr. Morales about it then."

"That's a fantastic idea," Chris squeaks.

Felix rubs the flat of his tongue against the pads of Chris's fingers and Chris hisses in Felix's ear and pulls his fingers out. He clamps the hand over Felix's mouth and with his free hand, practically yanks Felix's cock out of his jeans and boxers. He feels Felix whining against his hand at the sudden contact, but he is silenced by the television and Chris.

"You," Chris hisses, "are the worst, sneakiest little incubus. God."

Felix arches his back, sliding his cock in Chris's grip and smearing precum across his fingers. He doesn't need to say anything. Chris knows.

Chris tightens his grip around Felix's cock, pinky finger sticking out, and starts to pull on him. Felix, nasty little squirmer that he is, writhes under Chris's touch. Half pulling away, half pushing himself into it. Chris locks his ankles around Felix's to keep him from sliding out of Chris's lap. He rumbles against the hand over his mouth. Chris isn't even really trying yet.

But this is how Felix is. _Everything_ turns him on.

Chris starts to get a rhythm going, matching the beat of the fight song on TV. He grins, and Felix groans at the humiliation of being beat off to their school band, but he can't complain. His fingers work at Chris's sweatpants, kneading him like a cat. Chris can feel every pulse of pleasure through Felix's cock, guiding him to squeeze tighter and work his fist gradually closer and closer to the tip of Felix's cock.

Felix starts to squirm in real earnest as Chris starts to jerk the end of his cock faster, pausing only to smooth some more pearly precum from Felix's slit and then back to his almost painfully quick pace. Felix frees his left leg and kicks out weakly at nothing, back tensing, as he comes into Chris's fist.

Chris waits for Felix's cock to give a few more desperate, pathetic spurts before he once again thumbs the tip clean and, removing his hand from Felix's mouth, tucks him back into his pants. One hand covered in saliva, the other in cum. Felix opens his mouth to offer to clean it off, but Chris beats him to it, lapping Felix's cum off his palm while Felix watches him, eyes wide.

"What were your fall break plans?" Woojin asks, oblivious to the carnage in the living room in front of him.

"Oh, I don't know," Chris says conversationally, running his tongue over the heel of his hand and maintaining eye contact with Felix. "I was thinking of getting a hotel room in St. Augustine on the beach and just relaxing. Some private time, you know. Isolated. Undisturbed by unwanted authority figures."

Felix's eyelashes flutter.

"I hear you, man," Woojin says. "I'm afraid if I go camping though I'll pack my bags and never come back."

Chris laughs, covering the sound of him shifting the hem of his pants down and pulling his own cock out. "Yeah, I get that." Felix takes his dirty fingers and kitten-licks the tips, half-turned around in his lap. "Guess you just have to have something to come back to."

Felix smiles.

Woojin snorts. "My thesis can get fucked for all I care. Well, fresh air and screaming in the woods might help clear my head a little. It's a thought."

Woojin goes silent and Chris's cum-dirtied hand falls to his cock. He smears the mess of spit and cum across his cock and pulls it lazily, watching Felix watch him touch himself. Felix's lips are parted and his tongue is caught between his teeth again. He presses his side into Chris's chest and leans his head against his neck.

"Wanna suck you off," he murmurs.

"Yeah?" Chris says, almost laughing. "Maybe later."

"Too long to wait," Felix whines softly. "Give me your cum."

Chris does laugh lightly. "Okay, baby," he says. "For you."

He's in no rush. Thinks about Felix's body against his when he came. Thinks about fitting his hands over Felix's ass. Thinks about all the semi-public sex they've had. And the weekends of fuck after fuck when Woojin went home, until they were drenched in sweat and even their clean clothes stunk of sex. Chris lets Felix play with the head of his cock and then drop down into his sweats to toy with his balls, until Chris is sighing contently and leaning into the couch.

He jerks a little faster, hair on end at the slight squelch of wet skin. The fear of being found out. The mischief returned to Felix's eyes. He looks in Felix's eyes as he nears the edge and Felix whispers, "Come for me, baby." And Chris does.

Felix takes his messy hand and cleans it up once more, tongue pressing into the lines of Chris's palms and darting between his fingers. He's eager. Chris is cleaned off in no time.

The buzzer goes off on the television. Woojin moans in defeat and smacks his head on the island. Chris tucks himself away and Felix slides onto the couch next to him and draws his knees up to his chest. Chris sits on his right hand.

Woojin gets up and trudges into the living room, scratching at his stomach with a sigh. He doesn't give them a second glance as he pulls on his coat. "Y'all want anything from CVS?" He jingles his keys.

"Ice cream!" Felix pipes up. Chris makes a face.

"Ben & Jerry's?" Woojin asks. Felix nods. "Box wine for Chris."

"Dessert of champions," Chris says. "Tim Tams, too?"

"Only because I love you," Woojin says. He waves and sees himself out the door. On the game channel, the sports commentators go over all the mistakes their team made that night.

Felix looks at Chris. "I kinda want you to fuck me?"

Chris laughs. "I kinda wanna fuck you, too."

Felix smiles and pushes Chris onto his back. "Think we can be done in fifteen?"

"Oh, baby," Chris says. "When you have me tied this tight 'round your finger? I'll be done whenever you say you want me to be done."

Felix laughs. "Okay," he says. "It'll be our little secret."

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel like i should add i haven’t ever had relations with a student. freshman aren’t sexy to TAs in real life we prefer to go after our—you know what imma stop talking


End file.
